Reflection the Story of Draco Malfoy
by Miss Jasper Cullen
Summary: Draco Malfoy is a confused and misguided child, it is after the war, and his parents are in askaban. All he wants to do is change who he is. But it is not going to be easy, exspecially given his circumstances.
1. Chapter 1

Reflection

_How is one to determine one's self value, or character? How is one to find his very essence, is it through victory of battle? Or must one do good deeds to become a good person? But would that action really strengthen and create the essence of our very souls? What if there was no way to change who you were? Will you be trapped as you are? A mere shadow of what you want to be? What if who you are now is the pride of your family? And yet, you do not like it? Would you have the courage to change? After all change has its own nature…_

Right, left, right, left, back and forth, back and forth. Don't ponder, don't look up. You already know who you are. You are a Malfoy, proud and powerful. No one must ever see you cry. But that was what he was doing, he was pacing back in forth in his bathroom crying, he was a disgrace. An unworthy kid of a wizard his father would have said, and unfortunately, he was right. It was because of him that his best friend Crabbe was dead, and his father and mother probably blamed him for their capture into Askaban prison, at least Crabbe was actually his fault, his parent's capture though? That was hardly his fault. And they should know that, being one of Voldemort's highest ranking deatheaters, what did they expect? Being a deatheater was really asking for it, they should call it a ticket to Askaban, they could die now and he wouldn't even know. He found himself despising the deatheaters and all things to do with Voldemort. And he was once part of them, it was his childhood fantasy, unlike all the other kids whose dreams were to be minister of magic, or headmaster of Hogwarts. They would all love their lives and themselves if their dreams came true, they wouldn't hate who they became on their journey to get there. He stopped cold, there it was, the truth out at last, he didn't hate Voldemort and his cronies as much as he hated himself, who he had become, and what he had done.

He had accomplished his childhood goal, he had joined Voldemort's army. Only, he hadn't realized exactly what he had done, he always had dreamed of the good that he would be able to accomplish, only to have realized that the good that his father had told him about was so wrong, and yet he had forced himself to like it. He had become everybody's worst nightmare, a criminal that he didn't recognize. But even in his wildest dreams he never once imagined that on his first day of service, his own father would bring him to face Voldemort. It was also his fault that Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He wasn't the one that delivered the final blow that threw the old man to his death, that was Severus Snape, but he had rendered the man defenseless, which just the same as killing him. He hated that he had become a murderer, he was the monster that every kid feared, and now he couldn't change that. His past had destroyed him, his future was ruined. He was lucky that he didn't get thrown into Askaban like his parents, he was lucky that some people were merciful. Otherwise, he wouldn't have a chance to make amends with his life. This year he would join the other students who would be repeating their year over at Hogwarts. Which would be everyone due to the fact that they had some deatheaters on the staff. He would finally graduate this year and be free to rebuild his life on his own, if he knew anything, it would be that the teachers would be keeping him on a very tight leash, he would never be able to redeem himself. At this, he stopped short and faced his frame in the mirror that connected to the wall. Anyone else that looked at him would see a lean boy with blond hair that was so blond that it was almost silver. All he saw was a monster, and with any luck, he would change that.


	2. Chapter 2

Oops, looks like I forgot my disclaimer last chapter!!! Oh well, sadly, I do not own Harry Potter, I am not rich. That is all J.K Rowling. None of the original characters are mine so I do not own them, but I sure do appreciate being able to "borrow" them. Thanks for reading!

A bell chimed in the front parlor. It was an annoying sound, and was bound to startle anyone who it caught unawares. And that included him. He was woken out of his cruel imaginings, as if anyone would give him a second chance. Isn't it stated somewhere that everybody deserves a second chance? Didn't that apply to him anymore? Or was that a sick joke that the philosophers played on the all too gullible listeners. A scam on the horrible truths of life. The cruel fact that forgiven is a word used in myths, the stories that the children of the world dream of at night. The very same dreams that he had never had, and this moment, he couldn't be more grateful. He would not be fooled so easily, he had brains, not to mention a life. But alas, the life was a lie. One that he had been bread to believe, but that would change, he was his own person. He at least had the power to change who he was.

The bell chimed again, _ugh, who could it be? What more do they expect of me? I have already lost everything, can't they at least let me keep my dignity? _Rolling his eyes, he moved to the front parlor. Couldn't he enjoy his last two days of freedom before school in peace? He answered the door. Only to have it blown inwards five wizards who burst inside his house. Who were they? And what business did they have in house? "Hey! Who exactly do you think you're doing?" he stayed frozen in his door, should he have yelled like that? He shook himself; _don't be silly,_ he thought, they don't belong here. This was his house, and they were trespassing, that at least in the muggle world, was a crime. He took a step forward, "I said, what are you doing?" He eyed them with disgust, trying to hide the worry that was burning him inside. He took another step forward, waiting to see what they would do. The smallest of the five wizards took a step forward and proclaimed,

"We are here to inspect your house as is the right of the ministry when two of Voldemort's followers have been residing here. You would be Young Mr. Malfoy, I assume?"

"That's right." He spat out. The man looked him over with pitying eyes but then got back to business,

"As I have stated before, we are here to be sure of the fact that you have no materials or possessions that are or contain dark materials. If you would kindly step aside for a minute while we search the house." The man then fixed him with a glare that clearly meant no trouble, he quietly stepped aside. Thinking of nothing else to say, he mumbled,

"I'm sorry." As the wizards searched his home.

It seemed to last for hours. Their search was fruitless, as he knew it would be. For he had rid the house of all of his parents and his dark belongings. They were in a bag in the front yard for some ministry member to pick them up and destroy them. Finally, once they were done searching the inside of his house he stepped up to the small man,

"I must apologize for causing you the trouble of searching my home, I would have helped you and given you what I have already disposed of, but I was not quite sure that I had got it all. If you would just follow me outside I will give you all you need." And with that, he lead them outside and handed the man three bags filled with his parent's favorite belongings, not of which appealed to him. He stood there silently. Looking surprised, the man handed the bags to his crew and whispered in his ear,

"Do not blame yourself for what has happened. Sure you may have been a part of it, but you are not to blame. You are young and still have much to learn. From this point on focus on being who you want to be, not what anyone else wants. Good luck." He froze for a fraction of a second surprised at the man's words, but then grasped reality for the time being and firmly grasped the man's hand,

"Thank you." He said solemnly, he watched as they apparated out of sight. Thoughtful, he wandered back inside his house, moving from one room to another wondering if what the man had said was true. He sure did hope it was. But hope was fickle, and quick to change.


End file.
